#haechan x reader

[hyeokis]

husband!haechan texts (2).

ⓘ haechan x fem!reader. suggestive themes. he’s really whiny…

note. this was requested a lot! hope u enjoy mwa!

taglist. @ch3rryd0ll @jenohyun @untilthesunrises @raevyng @peachysoso @peartreegarden @iliveforsmut3000 @chenlezip @222low

[chenlurie]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤPunish

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤsinopse: Haechan escondeu uma parte importante da vida de você e a única coisa que te resta é ir conversar com ele.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ˖°𓇼𓂃 Haechan!idol x Fem!Reader

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓏸 avisos: handjob, edging, haechan!sub e dom!reader, cum eat

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𓏸 notas: vi ele comentando que se esqueceu da renovação do contrato porque fazia muito tempo e pensei nisso.

As notícias te bombardearam bem no horário de almoço. As páginas do NCT celebrando a renovação do contrato do 127 como uma vitória pessoal de cada fã, principalmente porque é algo que pegou todos de surpresa. Gerando um certo alívio depois de uma sequência de questões conturbadas no grupo. É um alívio para você também, está há quase dois anos vendo Hyuck sofrer com o destino incerto dos amigos da empresa. Só tem um problema: Você não é uma fã qualquer. É a namorada de Donghyuck. Não tem um motivo sequer para você ser informada sobre um assunto sério, e que diz respeito a trajetória de vocês, como se fosse apenas uma fã.

Pode estar sendo chata, ou fútil, mas não consegue evitar sentir a pontada de tristeza e um pouquinho de raiva da situação. Larga os chopsticks dentro da caixinha vermelha, perdeu a vontade de almoçar assim que o calor típico da raiva esquentou o sangue em suas veias. Pega o celular em cima da mesinha de madeira de tom marrom claro, os dedos procurando o chat com o namorado com certeza impaciência. Digita rapidinho esperando alguma resposta, é comum do Lee que demore para responder, no geral não te irrita, porém hoje está piorando sua raiva.

Esfrega o rosto impaciente, seu saltinho baixo faz um som alto no corredor vazio do apartamento do namorado. Seus pingentes da Hello Kitty batem de leve na porta a cada balanço dos movimentos que você faz em destrancar a fechadura. A luz baixa na casa é aconchegante aos seus olhos, os pequenos focos amarelados vão enchendo o cômodo em um conforto que relaxa seus ombros tensos pelo dia tenso.

Tira os saltos devagar, o frio do piso arrepia os pelinhos de seu corpo quando seus dedos tocam o chão. Caminha devagar até o estúdio improvisado que Haechan fez em casa. Não se ocupa em bater na porta, apenas abre com impulso e o encontro é sentado na cadeira de frente para o computador.

Ele nota seu reflexo pela lateral apagada de seu segundo monitor. Você vê o homem retirar o fone da cabeça grande de cor preta e jogar em cima da mesa, as rodinhas da cadeira arrastam pelo chão e ele te encara sem saber o que dizer. Esfrega as mãos na bermuda de moletom, desconcertado.

— Oi, amor… Eu… — A voz morre em sua garganta assim que ver seu dedo indicador erguido. Engole em seco enquanto te observa.

— Pro sofá — ordena, sem precisar se exaltar muito.

O garoto arrasta os pés em passos curtos até o estofado. Caminha devagar até lá e reprime um sorriso quando vê as enormes íris castanhas te encarando. Seus dedos tocam a pele exposta das coxas torneadas que a bermuda revela após subir um pouquinho.

“Eu ‘tô tão decepcionada com você, Hyuck.”

— Desculpa! Eu não queria, só acabei esquecendo. — Haechan cede na hora, as mãos ansiosas indo ao encontro de seus antebraços.

— Esqueceu de avisar a namorada que você tem há dois anos? Que insensível… — debocha, a pontinha dos dedos roçando de leve no cordão grosso da bermuda.

— Desculpa… desculpa… — repete, a voz baixinha vem junto de um biquinho nos lábios.

Você até teria pena se não soubesse que tudo foi feito de propósito. O quanto esse putinho adora estar nessa posição de seu subordinado, tanto que não consegue esconder totalmente a felicidade. O sorrisinho ladino escondido na baixa luz do estúdio decora seu rosto enquanto ergue o quadril com pressa para que o retirar de suas peças de roupa seja mais rápido. Também não te surpreende quando vê o pau semi duro.

Envolve a mão seca na base, a palma respira puxando a pelinha sensível apenas para ouvir o muxoxo choroso. Consegue sentir as leves tremidinhas que a pica dá enquanto fica durinha em seus dedos. "Tá machucando, amor…”. O pequeno choro é ignorado por seus ouvidos. Seu polegar passeia pela cabecinha já molhada, deixando o comprimento de seus dedos úmidos o suficiente para que os gemidos sofridinhos se transformem em dengo puro. Solta o pau duro em um ploc molhadinho e o vê cair em um baque surdo em cima da camisa preta. A babinha da umidade cria um fiozinho ligando o tecido grosso e a glande brilhante de pré-gozo.

Você leva a mão direita para massagear as bolas lentamente, a pontinha do seu polegar fazendo um carinho gostoso no períneo. Dá uma punheta desleixada com a mão esquerda, apenas deslizando a palma pelo freio só para ouvi-lo dar um leve gritinho. Haechan agarra seu pulso com força, os olhos semicerrados vem junto da boquinha meio aberta. E você se afasta mais uma vez. As súplicas baixas e repetitivas de por favor, por favor enchem o estúdio que parece mais quente com a cena à sua frente.

— Por favor, o quê? — Olha-o com desdém, as unhas raspando na parte interna da coxa alheia e você consegue notar os pequenos tremores ocasionais que as coxas estão dando.

— Me deixa gozar, amor, por favor… — pede, baixinho, a voz chorosa vem acompanhada de um quadril que rebola devagarinho em sua direção.

— Não. — Sua palma volta a envolver a glande que já está assumindo um tonzinho mais escuro pela pressão do sangue acumulado.

É ridículo o quão rápido Haechan pode gozar se estiver sob seus toques, e ele parece sentir isso mais forte quando vem da privação do gozo. Esfrega bem leitinho a pontinha do dedo indicador ao redor da babinha crescente que escorre como água do garoto, nota a pulsação do cacete em sua mão e quase pensa que ele está perto de gozar mais uma vez. Seu dedo continua os movimentos circulares, ora descendo para o freio e o vendo tremer e soltar um gemido rouco gostosinho enquanto aperta o estofado com as mãos, ora apenas soltando uma risadinha satisfeita em vê-lo como todo molhadinho como um virgem.

Uma tremidinha suspeita te faz soltar o cacete com pressa, sabe bem que Hyuck é esperto e não vai te avisar quando estiver perto de gozar para tentar passar despercebido com um choramingo de não deu pra aguentar, não deu pra aguentar. Alisa as duas coxas expostas à sua frente, o suor que se instala traz um brilho na pele pintada pelo tom amarelinho da luz na mesinha. Sua bucetinha aperta em torno do nada ai vê-lo assim, é sempre tão gostoso ter esse pau durinho pulsando em você e te enchendo de porra quentinha.

Mas sempre se lembra que está chateadinha com ele e volta a franzir as sobrancelhas, a mão ao redor na pica em uma punheta lenta. Os dedos envoltos apertam a base com certa força apenas para ouvir o gemido alto que sai da boca entreaberta. Quer que ele sofra. E nem precisa de muito, a punheta rápida não chega a causar dor em seu pulso quando vê o namorado revirando-se desesperado em busca de mais contato.

Antes que você se afaste mais uma vez, os jatos de porra sujam seus dedos de supetão. Hyuck choraminga manhoso, as coxas trêmulas enquanto sua mão sente cada pulsação gostosa do cacete duro esporrando tudo que tinha guardado. Seu coração bate forte em seu pulso, a cena se desenrola em câmera lenta diante de seus olhos. As tiras atingem de leve a blusa escura, e você acompanha com olhos atentos o caminho que elas fazem lentamente pela lateral da barriga do homem.

— Que tesão… Caralho… — murmura, mais para si mesmo do que para você.

— Vem aqui, Hyuck — ordena, gesticulando com o dedo limpo para que ele se sente de novo.

Observa a movimentação lenta e ainda desnorteada do namorado, sentando-se desajeitado no sofá suado abaixo de si e com os olhos semicerrados te encarando em busca de algo. Sem falar muito, você recolhe um pouco da porra que restou e a esfrega em seu indicador e dedo do meio. Hyuck sabe o que fazer e não tarda em abrir a boca para envolver seus dígitos com a língua, o músculo molhadinho rodeia seus dedos e provando o próprio gosto sem qualquer vergonha. Resmunga um tico sobre alguma coisa que você não entende bem, e o homem apenas manha inaudível sobre te mamar. E você prontamente ignora enquanto o empurra de volta para se deitar.

[hyeokis]

stupidly gorgeous. ✪ lee haechan.

spin-off to "your brother's a prick!" tags: haechan x fem!reader, ft bff!riku and bff!anton. best friend's brother trope. fluff, crack. light-hearted and silly drabble. wc: 1k words. note: hi! i just loved the drabble so much, and wanted to expand more on the dynamic. i also love anton so i had to put him in. do you guys maybe want a series of this?

"so i'll figure out the excel sheet, yn do the objectives and methodology, and anton's in charge of the literature review..."

you nod at riku's words, typing away on your laptop, legs swinging in the air as you lay on your stomach in riku's bed. the queen-sized bed is a little small for the three of you, but it's in the middle of winter when the tiles are too cold, so you make do. riku looks serious, scrolling through the assessment rubric.

anton, on the other hand, is balancing an apple pencil at the top of his lips. eyes looking down, lips puckered. riku grunts, grabbing the pencil and smacking it against the younger's forehead.

"chanyoung. do you even know how to write a literature review?"

"uhm... i have to... review the literature...?"

"right," riku sighs, smacking him again, on top of his head this time, before placing the pencil down. "you know what, this is my fault. i shouldn't have grouped with idiots."

you gasp, "excuse me? your gpa is only point 5 more than mine!"

"dude, i'm not even going to talk about mine..." anton adds, flipping to his back and flopping onto the bed.

obviously. anton, despite his nice, and shy exterior, had a peanut for a brain. a singular braincell he utilizes only for swimming.

you chuckle, secretly pulling up your messages — making sure riku doesn't see your screen. he would probably smack you like he did anton if he knew.

haechi [10:52 AM]: pspspspspspspsps haechi [10:55 AM]: umm love of my life? haechi [10:56 AM]: hot chocolate? in the kitchen?

you try to hide your smile by biting your lip, before excusing yourself for water.

...

it's been so long since you've been able to see your boyfriend.

mid-semester equates to a devastatingly long list of deadlines, and haechan had just started interning at corporate, submitting himself to the 9-5 life. it's a rare occurence to see your boyfriend, let alone be able to melt into his embrace like this.

"missed you," he hums, jet-black hair tickling your neck as he leans in, pressing a kiss onto your neck, he wraps his arms around your hips, lifting you up onto the counter before planting a kiss onto your forehead. "let me make you the drink right now."

you swing your legs in the air as he manages to make you the hot chocolate one-handed, his other hand resting on your thigh. haechan's become a pro when it comes to doing things one-handed — driving with his hand on your thigh, holding your shopping bags while holding your hand, typing on his laptop while playing with your hair... the list goes on. you talk about the things that happened throughout the week, all about your mean professor, your favourite cafe shutting down, and riku's strictness when it comes to assignments. he chuckles, shaking his head.

"sounds like riku," haechan murmurs, stirring the beverage. he chuckles at your pout, kissing it away. "sounds like a terrible week, baby."

once done, he passes you the mug, letting you warm your palms with the ceramic. you take a sip, setting it aside with a satisfied sigh. haechan couldn't stop chuckling at your every move, grinning with his arms rested against the marble countertop, on your sides, trapping you there.

"good?"

"mhm," you hum. "i like being here, like this, with you."

"me too, baby."

he leans in, pressing chaste pecks all over your skin — on your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, your neck, and lastly, your lips. what was intended to be innocent pecks turn to a make-out session, with his fingertips leaving imprints on your waist. your senses are overtaken with the smell of his cologne as he sucks your lower lip into his mouth, gently biting onto your lip.

"let's not defile my best friend on the countertop, please."

panickingly, the two of you break apart, your eyes blown wide while haechan stands there, grinning. absolutely no remorse. riku stands at the kitchen entryway, eyes narrowed at you — illustrating something along the lines of, "you're supposed to be doing work!" anton stands behind the brunette, munching on a bag of chips.

"hi hyung," anton waves, earning a wave back from haechan.

"hi, chanyoung."

"you," riku starts, pointing at you. you hurriedly jump off the countertop, brushing off your shirt awkwardly. "you're supposed to be working on the methodology!"

haechan's about to defend you when riku holds his finger up, "don't even start, hyung — you're distracting us from our marketing work. she's here for me, not you!"

"fine," haechan sighs, watching as riku drags you away, fast-walking back upstairs. he wraps an arm around anton's shoulder, "wait, marketing work? hey, i can help — i took that class on my second semester, you know."

seeing riku flash him a middle finger, he rolls his eyes, exchanging a look with anton. "you should've been my brother instead."

...

turns out, haechan is of no help. he may have taken the same marketing class, but what he didn't tell you, is that, he barely passed.

haechan stares at the excel sheets in front of him, hands hovering over the keyboard yet not actually typing anything. he considers himself to be a tech genius, what-not with the amount of time he spends playing games — but excel sheets are simply too complicated.

"oh my god, you're useless," riku grunts, snatching the laptop and placing it on his lap instead. he pulls up some youtube tutorial, while haechan flops himself onto your lap.

his hair tickles your thighs, but you don't mind. you let him lay on your lap, entangling your fingertips through his black strands with one hand.

"i'll help with the methodology, though," he murmurs to you.

"don't even bother, yn, he's stupid."

haechan glares at his brother, clicking his tongue. you chuckle, squishing his cheeks with your hands.

"it's okay, you're stupid-ly gorgeous."

"ew, what the fuck?" both anton and riku looks at each other, grossed out.

haechan sticks his tongue out at the two, "you're both just mad because neither yushi nor sohee likes you back."

they gasp, "what the fuck, yn — you've been telling my brother about our business?!"

...

taglist: @ch3rryd0ll @jenohyun @untilthesunrises @raevyng @peachysoso @peartreegarden @iliveforsmut3000 @chenlezip @222low

[ihyck]

nerd!hyuck who wasn’t only your boyfriend, but also your tutor.

he knows that his poor bimbo of a girlfriend struggled when it came to finals. and as the good boyfriend that he is — he makes sure to help you with it. but just studying didn’t do you any good, always ending up with you pouting and begging to bounce on his cock instead.

so, he turns it into an incentive. he holds you down on his lap, a worksheet right in front of you, your hands held to your back to make sure you don’t run. “what’s the answer, princess?” and when you can’t, a rough smack lands on your cunt, hyuck clicking his tongue. he slaps your cunt once again upon not receiving an answer, middle finger collecting the arousal on your folds, and he teases your hole, not fully dipping his finger in.

“you’re not getting this finger in your cunt until you answer, princess.”

[hyeokis]

your brother's a prick! ★ lee haechan x reader.

spin-off: stupidly gorgeous.

tags: haechan x reader ft maeda riku. best friend's brother trope. fluff. haechan plays the bass and has jet black hair and he's so sexy. wc: 1.8k words. note: this was supposed to be way shorter... but idk what happened sorry. pls enjoy hihi! i love band boy haechan.

you’ve always known that riku has an older brother.

he had mentioned it on several occasions, something along the lines of — my jerk brother borrowed my jeans without telling me, or i couldn’t sleep because my prick brother kept playing his stupid bass!

what you didn’t know, is said brother is this hot.

you’re not supposed to be here. you’re supposed to be using the bathroom, but somewhere along the hallway, you lost your way so now you’re here, standing before an open door. his bedroom wall is filled with michael jackson posters — and some bands you’ve only seen from your father’s old cassettes.

sitting in the middle of the room is him. he looks a little like riku, but with rounder features and a constellation of moles decorating his honey skin. he’s sitting on the floor, strumming his bass and bopping his head to the tune, tongue poking against his cheek.

you stand there, awestruck. your hand grips on the door frame, attempting to hide yourself behind the wall but he could see you. he looks up, fingers still orchestrating the instrument, eyeing you from head to toe. you feel your skin burn.

“lost?” he speaks, voice nothing like you’ve ever heard before. you think that you’ll remember the sound forever.

“uhm… the bathroom?”

“last door on the left.”

embarrassed, you walk away, his stare at the back of your head going unnoticed.

…

“what’s your brother’s name?”

“hm? haechan.”

“maeda hae—“

“—lee. different dad.”

“lee haechan…”

the bed dips. riku looks at you, propping his elbow onto the bed, lifting himself slightly to get a proper look. his eyebrows are furrowed, eyes squinted as he scans you. he’s known you for a while now, able to read your every move.

“yn. are you into my brother?”

your face turns to look at him, just slightly. you’re grateful for the dim lights, perhaps, he wouldn’t be able to see the blush creeping up your cheeks. you shake your head.

“no way. i just saw him on my way to the bathroom and was curious.”

you pray he couldn’t see through your lie. he squints his eyes just a little more, for a moment, before resting his head back against the pillows.

“good. he’s a stupid prick.”

you don’t know that. what you know for sure, is that he’s stupidly gorgeous.

…

yn [9:05 AM]: maeda riku i am seriously going to kill you. SERIOUSLY!!!!

rikuri [9:09 AM]: please do NOT i’m sooooo sorry ok!!! yushi needed my help so i had to leave :( pancakes in the microwave love you!

you scoff, tossing the phone to the other side of the bed, sounding a hushed thud. reluctantly, you pick your towel off a chair and make your way to the bathroom, mentally cursing your best friend in your head, planning all the ways you can get back at him. you brush your teeth, back leaned against the wall. you don't notice the door's unlocked until haechan walks in, towel slung over his shoulder.

"what —"

"chill," he mutters, grabbing his toothbrush. there's no urgency in his tone, no shock, as if it's the most mundane thing ever.

haechan brushes, standing close to you, shoulders lightly brushing. he looks into the mirror, meeting your eyes and raising his eyebrow, as if telling you to resume.

and so, you do. a little slower, more flustered than normal.

...

hanging out at riku's become a routine. embedded in your being, you find yourself taking the bus to his neighbourhood after class without thought. his mother claims that you're a maeda now, as you know where the spare keys are, and a designated mug sits in the dishwasher for you.

riku on the other hand, is rarely around. he prefers spending his afternoons at yushi's leaving you alone as you watch an old romcom in his living room.

haechan walks in, wordlessly taking a seat beside you  — it has become a frequent occurence. you think that you see haechan even more than riku lately, the way he'd join you for your binge watches, or when you'd bake cookies with riku. sometimes, he'd leave touches that linger —hand on your back as he passes by, or fingertip brushing against your lips as he makes you try a snack.

it's normal, yet it accelerates your heart rate without fail. you find yourself nervous every time he does as little as looking at you.

"pretty woman."

you turn to him, eyes widened. you? pretty? your hands curl around the hem of your shirt, making sense of it all.

"huh?"

haechan raises his eyebrow, tongue poking against his cheek.

"the name of the movie?"

"oh."

he chuckles, shaking his head before turning his attention back to the tv. right, of course he's talking about the damn julia roberts movie, and not you. you clasp a cushion against your face, embarrassed. he taps on your arm, touch burning through your skin.

"are you going to sungchan's party? the one on friday?"

"sungchan? oh, probably not, was not in —"

" — do you want to come with me?"

there's a minute pause as you turn your head towards him, and he's already looking at you. all the jest in his face is replaced with sincerity as he stares down at you, lip pressed against teeth.

"oh, yeah, of course."

"cool. it's a date then. we can get dinner first."

...

when riku said that his brother's a stupid prick, this must be what he means.

the servers must think you're a pathetic little thing, the way you're sitting at the far-right booth with a watered down iced tea and a melted banana split. haechan's an hour late — and with the way that he's not answering any of your calls, he's probably not coming. so, ashamedly, you grab your bag and leave for home, where you quickly flop onto your bed and weep.

no signs of haechan, at least not up until one in the morning.

yn [1:27 AM]: your brother truly is a PRICK. all caps lock btw. BOLDED. UNDERLINED. TIMES NEW ROMAN SIZE 57 AND CENTERED.

rikuri [1:28 AM]: preach mama rikuri [1:32 AM]: also wat

you're not in the mood to explain, so you shut your phone and sleep, dried tears on your cheeks.

...

it wasn't supposed to last this long.

haechan's had one long day, like it was a karmic debt sent by God which he had to pay in the form of nakamoto yuta and his stupid lies.

"sorry dude, the gig wasn't supposed to last this long. shotaro said they had some sort of technical error," yuta shrugs, shoving his drumsticks into his bag.

haechan glares at him, a full on side-eye as he swings his bass bag over his shoulder.

"you said the gig was supposed to start at 9, but it started at 10. and then you said we were the opener — bro, we were the fucking encore!"

"miscommunication, sorry," the older answers, holding his hands up in surrender.

haechan rolls his eyes, "does anyone have a charger? my phone's fucking dead," he scans the room, grumbling "useless," under his breath when all his band members shake their head, shoving his bass bag into the back of the van.

he bids his goodbye to the members (while scowling, of course), fast-walking to his car when the universe reminds him of whatever karmic debt he had in the form of a flat tire. he bangs his head against the car roof, cussing under his breath.

"i'm taking the fucking van!"

...

you're not at the diner, and you don't seem to be at sungchan's party.

haechan trudges through the crowd, muttering apologies at every bump and spilled alcohol. instead of finding you, he bumps into riku, who’s sitting on the kitchen counter, nursing a drink.

“have you seen yn?”

riku blinks, shaking his head. confusion sits in his eyes for a while until realisation hits.

“wait. is this why she texted me saying you’re a fucking prick? what the fuck did you do to my best friend?”

haechan’s tongue pokes against his cheek, running a hand over his face. he grabs riku’s drink, downing it in one go before grabbing his brother's hand. he pulls his brother through the crowd, earning a couple whines from him.

"dude — where the fuck are we going?"

"you're helping me get yn back."

to riku's dismay, the two brothers arrive at your house — standing in your garden as haechan figures a way to get riku into your bedroom. you won't answer calls, nor will you answer the door. so, he eyes the tree looming over your bedroom window and the gears in his head click.

"riku. you're going to climb up this tree and go through her window."

"the hell? who said i'm doing all that?"

"your dearest older brother, of course."

the younger groans, but he makes no more protest as haechan gives him a boost, and so he climbs up the tree, making his way into your window and turning his head back to shoot haechan the middle finger.

you're jolt awake by the sound of riku falling to the floor with a thud. the blanket is pulled over your body as you screech.

"what the fuck?"

"it's me, it's riku!" he yells back, holding his hands up in surrender. "yn, you have to go downstairs, please."

...

someway, somehow, riku manages to convince you to go downstairs.

"in another life, please find a man better than my brother."

you scoff, opening the door to be greeted by haechan, on his knees, staring up at you. full begging posture. riku runs a hand across his face, shaking his head.

"god, i can't watch this," he mumbles, walking away to disappear into your kitchen.

haechan, on the other hand, is still on his knees, hands clasped together in a prayer. it's a rare sight — he always seems so aloof, and cheeky, poking jokes at you any chance he had, leaving remarks that border on platonic and flirty.

you liked it, though. lee haechan on his knees begging.

"i'm so, so sorry," he says, each word emphasised. "i had a whole thing going on with the band. i swear i planned my time so well, it's just — some things happened, with my car, and then my phone died —"

"haechan. get up."

"no, i really am sorry, please don't be mad —"

your cheeks flush as you look around the neighbourhood, seeing the lady that lives across you peeking through her window only amplifies the redness. you pull him up, "please, just get up, i won't be mad anymore."

"you promise?" he finally gets up, staring at you with hopeful eyes.

you sigh, bringing your hand forward to flick him on the forehead.

"don't ever mess up again."

he blinks, wanting to make a comment on how the flick didn't hurt at all, but he bites his tongue.

"so you forgive me?"

"yes."

"you're not mad at me anymore?"

"no."

"so you'll go on a date with me?"

you roll your eyes, but you can't stop the smile that creeps up your cheeks.

"geez, haechan — yes, i'll go on a date with you."

haechan grins, bringing his pinky up to seal the promise, cheekily kissing your pinky.

"is my brother still on his knees? can i come out now?"

...

taglist: @ch3rryd0ll @jenohyun @untilthesunrises @raevyng @peachysoso @peartreegarden @iliveforsmut3000 @chenlezip @222low

[kj0ne]

Hear me out

I need someone to make a Haechan fic, imagine, or even one shot based off the song will he by Joji

Pleaseee i need angst and yearning 😭😫

[haeradise]

can someone write a patient!reader x psychiatrist!haechan or the other way around i am BEGGING

[hyeokis]

love, to lee donghyuck, is not limited to only three words.

it is love when he traces your spine at midnight, drawing invincible circles on your back, etching his affection onto your skin. you've had a hard time falling asleep lately, he knows — he could tell from the toss and turn of your body and the soft sounds of tiktok late at night. so he makes you chamomile tea and rubs your back — the room smells like eucalyptus oil and him. he presses kisses on your shoulder so tender, as though you were porcelain. he rubs your back until you fall asleep, and the first thing he asks in the morning is "did you sleep well?"

love, to lee donghyuck, is his habit of kissing you every morning. hyuck carresses your cheeks with his palms, snickering at the way you blink your eyes to adjust to the sunlight. "baby... missed you while we were asleep..." he kisses you on the forehead, your cheeks, your nose, then your lips. he doesn't miss a single step, maybe adds a few extra kisses on your lips — as though a superstitious routine. he has to do it or else his day will feel terrible. and in a slight chance that he forgot... well, expect multiple messages of apologies and sobbing emojis.

donghyuck tells you he loves you by physically latching onto you every chance he gets. he always says he hates the clingy type — when in truth, he's often the clingy one. you're watching tv? he's hugging your arm, legs rested on your lap, chin buried into your neck. you could feel his breath against your skin every time he makes a commentary, like "that's literally us," and "you think i'm more handsome than him, right?" you're making coffee? he's hugging your back, littering kisses across your collarbone. you're taking a walk? well... the two of you are! he'll go on that walk with you, lacing your fingers together and swaying your arms.

you never listen, and hyuck's aware. he tells you to bring a jacket and you never do. when you start shivering, rocking your legs under the table, hyuck glances at you and sighs. "i told you it'll be cold, didn't i?" he babbles, "you never listen!" nevertheless, he's quick to take his jacket off and lay it on you. "bring an umbrella, it'll rain!" but of course, you don't. still, he'll rush out of practice and pick you up with his car, sighing to see you drenched. "thank god i have your location, i told you it'll rain, baby. i don't want you getting sick." you never listen, he knows. to be loved is to be known, isn't it?

it is also love when hyuck tells you his secrets. he's always been the oldest in the family, rarely ever shows that he's struggling. but sometimes, behind closed doors, when it's just the two of you, he crawls into your embrace, tucks his head into your neck and cries. "i'm tired," he whispers. his voice is barely there, like it's a sin confession and you're the priest. hyuck lets you comb your fingers through his hair and kiss away his tears. to some, it may be a small thing, but to hyuck, it means everything. after all, a secret's an intimate thing. 

love, to lee donghyuck, isn’t the three words whispered to you — but every little action he does with you in mind.